Aphonion Tales (New posts 6/13, 6/15, 6/19)

[Cerebral Paladin]

The Eldar psionicist examined the three regular prisoners quickly. “They have little in their minds, your grace. They are deeply deranged and full of hatred. They have been trained to focus that hate on you.”

“Do they know of other demon-worshippers?”

“As far as they know, we have taken most of them. There was one additional cell besides the three in the sewers, but they do not know where it is or who is in it. I do not think they have any additional information.” The Eldar looked at Alistair. “What do you intend to do with them?”

“I don’t think there’s any choice but to execute them.”

“If you wish, I could stop their hearts painlessly.”

Alistair nodded, and the demon-worshippers slumped, instantly dead.

After a few moments, Kit said, “Perhaps the psion will know more…”

“Indeed.” The Farsensor focused his attention on the psion. The Eldar’s eyes widened in surprise that instantly gave way to anger. “You dare to raise a shield? Against me?” Kit could feel a wave of energy as the Eldar contemptuously ripped through the human psion’s defenses. Dame Brionna watched, slightly alarmed but carefully learning a valuable lesson. In their own way, the Eldar are as arrogant and convinced of their own superiority as their fallen cousins. The Eldar’s lips curved into a cold smile. “Oh, there is a lot more here. It thinks. It has met the one you call Drucilla; she finished its training. His training started with the Society of the Powers of the Mind.” Alistair recognized that as the name of one of the many human schools of psionics that offer training to the gifted for a high price. “It has met with other conspirators as well. And I see a young man's face; a familiar young man... is this not the young man I showed you before? But without the second image. In a city... not this city... buildings of white stone."

“Buildings of white stone?” repeated Kit. “That sounds like Brightspan City. I’ll form a mental image of it.”

The Eldar quickly read Kit’s image. “Yes, that city.”

“Did he meet the Duchess? Or the Duke?”

“He met only the boy, not any other members of the family, but there is a sense of great struggle, almost war around the boy. This one spies for him, particularly on a female, an older female. For this one it is all cold calculation. He believes that what comes is inevitable, so he sees it as like breaking a warm loaf of bread and putting jam on it for himself. What an odd image… I'm going to try to draw out the details of his plan; if I fail, he will die." The Eldar stopped speaking as he concentrated on the more difficult task. After a moment, the elflord smiled. “It was a planning meeting. He was there, in his physical body. The others-- the young man; a skaven, accompanied by a great beast, a rat-ogre; a human woman, young, a natural channel; Drucilla, and a group of five men and women-- three are southerners, from the Sunken Lands, the last two could be anybody; and then a military commander coming in and then leaving. Let me see… yes, the commander was the commander of the Brightspan field army." The Eldar's face twisted, as if he had just bit into a lemon. "This one I will not kill. It would dirty me."

"What of Drucilla?” asked Alistair. “Can you tell if she is indeed a Noldar?”

“I agree that she's Noldar. But I can't imagine why she would be involved.” The Eldar shook his head. “Unless she were damaged… One in a hundred children born to the Noldar might be mind-blind, and another might be marginal. We care for our unfortunate children as best as we can, but the Noldar expose their mind-blind, or cast out their marginal. If she had just enough psionic power that they let her live, but were cast out, she might have become involved in this insanity.” The Eldar shifted his attention back to the psion. “There is no more useful information to be had from him.”

“Thank you for your aid,” said Alistair. “We will have him disposed of properly.”

“Good. It is a foul creature. Unless you have further need of me, I will return to my ship.”

Once the Farsensor had left, Kit shook her head. “I think he was a little too reluctant to realize that an elf, even a Noldar, might make an alliance with the forces of Borsh’tro. We already had plenty of reason to believe that Drucilla is a close ally of Quinliart. There’s no reason to think that she is not a true Noldar.”

“No, but the more fastidious Noldar may be upset about this. I think it’s time to let the Controller of Region 9 know about Drucilla’s activities, through her aunt. At worst she’ll be angry; at best, it will mean open conflict between the Regions.”

Kit nodded. “Any conflict we can produce among the Noldar has to help.”

Even Dame Brionna grudgingly nodded. “I wish we didn’t have to deal with any of the Noldar. But we have to deal with Drucilla somehow, and we don’t have the power to fight her directly. Just, please, be careful, your grace.”

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

Lady Setilina Curini’rim accepted the Archduke’s invitation to a private dinner. She swept into the dining room in a crystal laced gown, wearing a restrained but beautiful crystaline coronet, as befitted her status as a Noldar princess. “Your grace, thank you for inviting me to this dinner. I thought that this might make a suitable occasion to present my gift to you.” She held out a headband. “I have created a crystal horse as a swift and tireless mount for you. It has the libraries of knowledge that it ought to and is bonded to you, but I have not created a personality, as that should be formed as it interacts with its rider and responds to what you desire in a steed. You will find that it will serve you devotedly and ably in the decades to come.”

“Thank you, Lady Curini’rim. You honor us greatly with your generosity.”

Dame Brionna, for her part, desperately hoped that Alistair would never feel the need to try out this particular gift. Setilina had seemed polite but trusting a Noldar construct with your safety is insane.

Alistair made polite small talk with Lady Curini’rim for the first several courses of the dinner. By the time he thought they had talked barely long enough to dare to move to substantive business without insulting the Noldar, Kit was utterly bored and miserable, never daring to open her mouth but needing to remain in case something vital was said. Dame Brionna’s nervousness steadily rose as the strain of being on alert in the presence of an enemy for more than an hour took its toll.

“Lady Curini’rim, we hope you might deliver a message from the Archduchy to the Controller of Region 9.” Alistair held out a parchment roll, sealed with the Great Seal of the Archduchy. “Of course, we will also tell you what the message says.”

Setilina took up the scroll and it disappeared instantly. One of her eyebrows rose slightly in mild curiosity.

“We have received positive knowledge that members of Quinliart’s immediate family are conducting slavery operations within Region 9, in violation of your niece’s ban. The image you identified as Quinliart’s cousin was taken from a hag that we personally stopped in its slaving operations in Enclaves. The hag is now in our power and would confirm that the Noldar we know as Drucilla ordered the slaving operations.”

“That is news that she should hear directly. If I may bring her here?”

“Of course, your excellence.”

The Noldar concentrated. A small disc appeared, similar to the one that had appeared before the parchment disappeared, but with a miniature elven form on it. The disc then expanded, and a full-sized Noldar lady stepped off it.

Alistair’s throat caught at the sight of her. She was likely the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Her skin had the pearly white coloration of the Noldar-- an actual white, not the pinkish tone that is called white among humans. She wore a diaphanous gown that sparkled with many crystals and pearls and did more to suggest than to conceal. Alistair also recognized the rings on each of her fingers and toes as summoning rings of substantial power. Her body was perfectly formed, slender in the elven way but with unmistakeable strength. And she was utterly perfect and without flaws. After a moment of simply staring, Alistair managed to speak. “Welcome to Canberry, your ladyship.”

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

“Thank you.”

Alistair embarked on another extended round of small talk, but after only a half-hour or so, Setilina took pity on him and said, “Perhaps it is time to move on to the matter that we brought my niece here to attend.”

The Controller of Region 9 looked at Alistair curiously. “You are remarkably direct, mentally, even when observing polite forms.”

“It isn’t very polite to read them, my dear,” observed her aunt, although perhaps with more amusement than criticism.

“If I am focused, it is because we have important matters to discuss, your ladyship. My understanding was that Region 9 has forsworn slaving. We applaud this decision, and it opens up the possibility of trade with Canberry. But we cannot trade with those who claim that they have banned slave-taking and yet tolerate the operations of other Zorplona-Aragoni within their region.”

The Controller glared. “I have always believed that slavery is a waste of life. I do not permit any slave-taking operations within my Region.”

“That was as we hoped, your ladyship. But we have personal knowledge of a slaving operation under the auspices of a Noldar known to us as Drucilla, a close kinswoman of Quinliart. We dismantled part of her operation, and found that the hag that had been running the operation was her personal minion. Your aunt identified as Quinliart’s kinswoman the image we drew from the scrying mark the hag placed upon a djinni bound to my service.”

Not even Kit could tell if Setilina confirmed this mentally, but the Controller seemed to have no doubt about its truth. “How dare they?” she raged. “Region 9 is mine to order as I see fit, and I have forbidden it. For them to both intrude and violate my express command… It will mean a war of assassins.”

“We have reasons to believe that it is worse than merely slavery, as well. She has aligned herself with the forces of Borsh’tro. Our intelligence shows that she works with the Skaven and the remnants of the Abomination of Shur. We believe that she specifically sought to enslave children with elven blood, to use in a ritual to elevate the Abomination to demon lord status.”

“Heresy!” cried the Controller. She twisted on one of her rings, and a hound-headed, heavily muscled bipedal being appeared almost instantly. “Commandant, you will prepare twenty battle-barges for an assault on Quinliart’s facility in the mountains. Equip each battlebarge with a full unit of elite drow troops, and stiffen them with a force of daemons.”

The creature, presumably a powerful daemon itself, nodded, growling assent in some unearthly language. Its lips pulled back, baring a fierce set of teeth as it anticipated the battles to come. The Controller twisted her ring again, and the Commandant disappeared.

She faced Alistair. “They will be punished for their insubordination. You have my personal word that no slaving will take place in Region 9 as long as I live.”

Alistair nodded respectfully. “We thank you for that commitment, confident that you will carry it out.”

“If I may, I should return to Enclaves. I have preparations to make for the prosecution of the rest of this war.”

“Of course, and we thank you for meeting with us.”

The Controller disappeared in a clap of air. Alistair’s eyes lingered on where her beautiful form had been. Dame Brionna had noticed the clear effect the Controller had on Alistair with growing horror. Keeping an eye on the Archduke’s wenching was one thing, and not too difficult as long as she could screen the women that might catch his eye. But if the Noldar pursued him, what could she do? Kit, on the other hand, continued to demonstrate the blindspot she sometimes had towards Alistair’s behavior. She certainly knew that his eye wandered, but she rarely noticed just how often he followed his eye.

“You have done us a great service,” said the Princess of the Cuniri’rim. “Neither I nor my niece will forget that you shared this information with us.” She then stopped talking, but her voice continued in Alistair’s mind alone for another second. <<I would be careful of your interest. Previous humans who she has taken haven't survived the experience.>> Whether she knew that statement would only increase Alistair’s fascination was the furthest thing from his mind.

* * *

The following day a flotilla of flying boats descended upon the Noldar mountain fortification near Furrows. The boats attacked with a great deployment of weapons far beyond human understanding, and then a small army of drow and daemons descended to war upon the survivors.

End of Session 7

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

Session 8:

Determined to start a new morning routine for the archducal household, Dame Brionna came in the early morning to fetch Alistair for the morning services. She found a small crowd waiting patiently outside his bedchamber-- two assistant chamberlains, one with attire for the day, the other with a large breakfast platter, and an assistant to the Privy Secretary with a collection of scrolls and a small desk. Dame Brionna glanced over the group for a few moments and realized that they would wait until the door opened from within. As the Captain-Presumptive of the Archducal Guard, she felt that maintaining a sensible schedule for the Archduke fell within her prerogatives. She wrapped briskly on the door.

Alistair’s voice answered sleepily, “Yes? What is it, and can it wait?”

“No, your grace. The chamberlains have brought breakfast and attire, and the scrolls from the Privy Secretary for your grace’s morning briefing. And your grace should dress quickly-- we don’t want to be late for morning chapel.”

An even more disgruntled Kit rolled over in the bed. “Just give me a few moments, I’ll head back to my room.”

“You don’t have to, you know,” replied Alistair languorously. “The household staff are discreet, and they should get used to this.”

Kit paused for a moment, discomfort with the idea of servants coming in to Alistair’s bedchamber while she was still there warring with a desire to stay comfortably in bed.

Dame Brionna called in through the door, “There’s plenty of breakfast…”

Kit bit her lip. “Fine,” she muttered pulling the sheets up to a modest level.

“Enter,” said Alistair. If he felt any discomfort at robing in front of a group of servants and Dame Brionna, he concealed it well. As the secretary set up the desk and scrolls, he looked them over. “My morning briefings are brought before chapel?”

“Yes, your grace. Your grandmother always insisted that they be ready when she awoke, but never read any but the most urgent until after services.”

“Yes, I can imagine. We will be following a new pattern. The morning briefings will be delivered and read before chapel, so if there are pressing matters that have not been marked as urgent, we may nonetheless attend to them immediately.” Dame Brionna frowned slightly; reading the messages before chapel would often mean missing chapel, which was likely precisely what Alistair wanted, but she could not argue with his reasoning.

“Yes, your grace.”

Alistair quickly began breaking the seals on the messages and reading them. Most were relatively standard. There was a report from Alonzo Strawberry listing the last night’s major crimes: murders, major thefts, and other felonies. Canberry has always been good about keeping track of people, and almost everyone is at least listed in a parish roll somewhere. Alistair scanned through the report. “The number of murders seems high.”

Kit shrugged. “People get killed, m’lord. More in the poorer parts of cities, but murders happen.”

“I know that. But still… seven last night alone? And multiple murders every night since we arrived? That seems too many for a city the size of Canberry City, especially with the number of guards and the watchful eye of the Church.”

Dame Brionna nodded thoughtfully. “I agree, your grace. We would expect some murders, but this is more than I would have thought.”

“Any patterns to them, m’lord?”

“Let’s see… concentrated in two of the poorer areas. We don’t have any districts with true penury, like Cabbage Heights, say, in Enclaves. But there are some that are less well-off. One is directly on the other side of the wall from the Temple Ward, the other is just outside the Merchants Ward.” Most of the poor of Canberry City live outside the inner city, with its five wards, in the many wards between the ancient inner city walls and the great outer walls that protect the city now.

Dame Brionna glanced at the sheet. “Interesting. Most of the dead are unmarried, young women. That could suggest more demonic involvement.”

“You think they may be being killed for ritual purposes?”

“Virgins are traditional for such things, your grace.”

“I would have hoped that clearing the sewers out would have ended that sort of threat… Let’s see what the rest of the scrolls say.”

The Chamberlain sent a message that the Holy See of Paranswarm had unexpectedly sent a representative to the coronation, apparently the Archbaroness of Mandrath. Another document listed the quarterly tax income, basically saying that the treasury continues to be flush. Another message, from the minister of trade, detailed a steady and substantial drop of the trade of spices, dried and smoked fish, and meats from the South.

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

The last message, under the seal of the personal arms of Field Marshal Sir Derrick Brightspan and with the slight charring at the edges that marks teleported parchment, provided a battle report from his campaign against the barbarians. They engaged elements of the barbarian horde yesterday. The barbarian horde had substantial surprising cavalry support, including lancers, a type of unit the barbarians had traditionally lacked. After three charges, the barbarians broke, but Sir Derrick withheld pursuit to tend to his own wounded and pursue slowly. The barbarians have also assembled a small number of primitive fortifications-- stockades and the like. Sir Derrick requested permission to burn fortifications if the civilians refuse to quit them.

“He delayed pursuit to tend to his wounded?” asked Kit. “That doesn’t sound like what we know of Sir Derrick.”

Alistair focused on the signature. “It wasn’t entirely his choice, I think. The signature isn’t his, and matches the notation at the bottom from his private secretary. If his private secretary is signing his correspondence, Sir Derrick has probably been badly wounded.”

“You’re not going to give him permission to burn fortifications with civilians inside, are you? It would be a slaughter.”

“Your grace, it may be necessary,” responded Dame Brionna. “The army cannot afford to leave possible foes behind it, but if they take the time to besiege each until it falls, their advance will be horribly delayed. And the sieges will not be bloodless, either. I do not relish the possibility, but it may be necessary.”

Alistair closed his eyes for a moment. “We can hope that if he does start burning fortifications, he would only need to burn a few before the other civilians were more sensible. Still… I won’t order that if I can avoid it. We’ll consult with Field Marshal Broadfields. If he agrees that it is necessary, we don’t have much choice.”

“Field Marshal Broadfields always attends the morning services, your grace. We still have time to attend and speak with him afterwards.”

“Fine. It will be useful to make an appearance for political reasons, anyway.”

The three all made their way to the palace chapel. As this was simply an ordinary day, the chapel was far from capacity, although there were still a score of congregants. About half of the worshippers were nobles and high officials of the Archduchy, entitled to attend the Archduke’s chapel because of their rank. The balance were a group of wealthy and highly favored nobles with standing invitations as a sign of the Archduchy’s favor. Alistair ignored the views of the other congregants and proceeded directly to the Archducal pew, where he ran through the pre-service rituals in a small, private, but precise and easily visible, way. Kit’s sharp ears could hear the murmurs of pleased surprise from the merchants-- they had not expected to see Archduke Alistair in church except on festival days and perhaps for the weekly great Mass. Perhaps he was more faithful than the rumors suggested? Kit relayed this mentally to Alistar, who maintained his solemn face while feeling pleased about the politics. The nobles seemed much less surprised by his presence, and much less impressed. But then, they had a keener awareness of why their liege might attend church regardless of his personal feelings; some of them were probably simply keeping up appearances, themselves.

The chaplain ran through the morning service efficiently, including the required liturgy but cutting every optional portion and keeping things moving. Upon arriving, Dame Brionna had quietly mentioned to the priest that the Archduke preferred the daily services to be quick so that he could return to his duties, and the priest understood and obeyed. Alistair again made a show of participating fully, while creating the impression that this was a personal devotion not intended for the eyes of others. Kit did her best to follow along, still feeling somewhat uncomfortable in a Glor’diadelian church. Only Dame Brionna participated fervently and without either show or discomfort; her only complaint was that the Archduke’s preference for a quick service ran directly contrary to her own.

After the service, Alistair caught Marshal Broadfields eye and made a small gesture to wait. He then mingled through the others who had attended the service, making small talk, discussing the day’s scripture readings, and in general trying to inspire personal affection and loyalty while creating an impression of great piety and devotion to duty. Kit, listening to the thoughts of the various merchants and nobles that Alistair spoke to, heard both the surprise but also the tremendous shift towards positive feelings in their thoughts. She nodded to herself; Alistair certainly knew a thing or two about making people like him. [A 37 on his Diplomacy check didn’t hurt, either.]

As the remainder of the congregants dispersed, Marshal Broadfields made his way over to Alistair and his companions. After moving to a more private chamber, Alistair passed Field Marshal Brightspan’s message over.

“We suspect he may have been injured, based on the uncharacteristic message about pursuit.”

“Certainly. It suggests that he was badly wounded, in fact. If he were simply forced to withdraw from the front, he would still send his army forward. But if command had passed to one of the generals beneath him, the more tentative approach is easily explained. This poses a tremendous danger to the empire; if he cannot resume command quickly, the campaign could be greatly prolonged, with a much higher total loss. And if he dies… some of the generals in his army should not hold their ranks. It is possible they could even manage to lose.”

Alistair nodded. “You’ll need to be ready to teleport out and assume command. We’ll do everything we can to aid his recovery, but if he does not recover, we need a competent general in charge.”

The field marshal nodded. “Yes, your grace, that makes sense. I’ll review the reports in more detail and make my preparations.”

“What of his request for permission to burn the fortifications?”

“Unquestionably correct, your grace. Bypassing the fortifications or besieging them without burning them are both untenable options. The strategic consequences of either would be to slow our advance and weaken our army-- precisely the opposite of our goal in striking a hard blow against the enemy to break their will to fight us.”

“Very well, then… he’ll have his permission. I only wish we did not need to; many civilians will die as a result.”

“Your grace, that was inevitable when they took to the fortifications and refused to surrender when beaten. You should also know that the use of fortifications is unusual among the barbarians. Traditionally, they have only had light mobile shelters, without actual settlements or fortifications. I suspect that this is another example, like the lancers, of the khan adapting to improve their techniques. It is a dangerous trend. And it makes the over-caution of the more junior generals more problematic. We should not give them time to adapt further.”

“We need to shore up the chain of command, your grace,” commented Dame Brionna. “It’s all well and good to rely on Sir Derrick, and to send out Marshal Broadfields if he is slain, but we need the other generals to be capable and aggressive enough as well.”

“Indeed. Do you see anything inadvisable in promoting the most aggressive and skilled officers? We could include that in Sir Derrick’s orders as well. It should both strengthen the top of the chain of command and inspire the rest of the officers.”

“A wise plan. Do you know if there are any of the Elite Hand with the army?”

Alistair did his best to conceal the fact that he had no idea what Marshal Broadfields was discussing. “We would have to check.”

The field marshal nodded. “If there were any there, if they could… discomfit some of the least effective generals, it could provide additional room for Sir Derrick to remake his command.”

Dame Brionna found herself grudgingly impressed with Marshal Broadfields’s practicality. She couldn’t fully approve of what he was discussing-- the Elite Hand are the Canberran military’s best spies and assassins, and “discomfiting” less effective generals could easily mean arranging fatal accidents. But the army needed to be able to win this war and the possible future wars, and if that meant some generals would die in the meantime, so be it.

Alistair thanked the field marshal for his advice. Back in his quarters, he turned to Kit and Dame Brionna. “I think we know about everything we need to before responding to Sir Derrick. But I’m also planning on giving him some more specific instructions about how to handle the Khan.”

“It sounds like the barbarian’s whole effort centers on the Khan.”

“Indeed. And he has no clear heir-apparent, either. Five children, all under the age of eight, four full siblings, thirteen half-siblings by his father, and two half-siblings by his mother. If he dies, the barbarian horde is likely to degenerate into infighting over the succession.”

“Are you thinking of trying to have him killed, your grace?”

“In part. If Sir Derrick has the opportunity to kill the Khan on the field of battle, he should take it. Pressing hard in a single battle at the Khan’s personal guard could end the war,” Alistair said. “At the same time, the Khan seems like an effective and foresighted leader. I also plan to ask Sir Derrick to reach out through diplomatic channels, during discussions of exchanging wounded or truces or the like, to ask the Khan to agree to meet me personally. Of course, during any diplomatic communications we could do nothing to harm him. But if he could be persuaded to ally with us instead of fighting us, we could use a leader of his caliber. And I wouldn’t mind adding an eighth duchy, either.”

Kit and Dame Brionna agreed with Alistair’s plan, although perhaps with less enthusiasm and confidence than he brought to it, and Alistair quickly dictated a letter to Sir Derrick for teleportation out to the front.

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

With the war planning dealt with, the Archducal Council, as Alistair and his friends were fast becoming, began planning the rest of its day. Dame Brionna focused on the need to investigate Lady Mayor Overfifer and her son’s surprising relationship with Cassandra of Caligshire, although of course it must not look like an investigation. She also noted the desirability of a meeting with the Princess of Stormreach, to begin investigating whether she would be a suitable wife for Alistair. Kit resolutely ignored that but passed the word out through her organization that the Mouth wanted a meeting with the Elite Hand. For his part, Alistair wanted to bring matters to a head with the Duke of Brightspan and also wanted to meet with the ambassador from Hanal about a host of matters. Invitations with the force of commands quickly issued. Lady Overfifer and her family were to join the Archduke and his Council for tea; dinner would be a formal but private affair with the Hiercov of Magdad, ambassador of Hanal. Over the next few days, each of Alistair’s vassals in his capacity of Duke of Canberry proper were to join them for tea, while the Duke of Brightspan would attend a formal lunch, “at His Grace the Duke of Brightspan’s convenience but no later than two days from today.” Treating her as of ambassadorial rank, Alistair invited the Princess of Stormreach to the following day’s dinner, in keeping with the pattern he had established of dining with the Noldar ambassador and the Hanalian ambassador on the preceding days.

Lady Overfifer arrived promptly at the appointed time, wearing the most severe outfit for tea imaginable on anyone besides a nun. Her black gown concealed her form effectively, leaving no more than a quarter inch of neck visible and covering her arms completely to past the wrist. Presumably, she had legs somewhere beneath the gown’s skirt, but the Council could only guess.

<<I have a clear read on her thoughts,>> Kit sent. <<Nothing so far but apprehension and a hint of curiosity. What do you make of her clothing choice?>>

<<I knew she was a widow,>> Alistair thought back. <<But she seems to still be in mourning, even though it’s been years. Her husband took an active role leading the constabulary and died violently in the service.>>

“Your grace,” said Lady Overfifer, executing a perfect curtsy. “May I present my sons?”

Her three sons each bowed in turn. Kit suppressed a laugh as she read the thoughts of Wade, the oldest at 14. <<That must be the Archduke’s girlfriend. I can see why… she’s stacked.” Used to being the center of men’s attention, Kit was merely amused by the boy’s response, not offended. Henry, the middle son, was slightly interested in his surroundings, but already beginning to dread the long and tedious conversations among adults that his mother engaged in so often. The youngest son, eight-year-old Sven, struck Kit as the most remarkable. He was precocious; taking into account his age, he was almost certainly the smartest of the Overfifer sons. And everything about a visit to court fascinated him-- the surroundings, the people, the prospect that they might talk about matters of importance that he would only partially understand but would try his best to figure out.

“We are pleased to welcome them to the palace. Your family has always served the Archduchy loyally and well, and we anticipate that one day your sons will serve as well as you have. We asked you here to discuss if there are any matters that you believe that the Archduchy should know about, or matters of concern where you would wish our aid.”

Kit sent to Alistair, <<She’s relieved to hear you say that. It seems that she had worried that with the death of the Archduchess, she had lost her connection to the Archducal government.”

“Thank you, your grace,” replied Lady Overfifer. “I’ve taken the liberty of bringing reports on the principle issues that face the city.”

Kit glanced shrewdly at Henry. “M’lady, perhaps your younger sons might prefer to spend some time in our gardens? I’m sure my page would be happy to befriend them, and they wouldn’t have to listen to these matters.” <<And Abigail will be able to find out if Henry knows anything more effectively than we could…>>

“Thank you, Dame Katherine. I’m sure that Henry would quite like that.”

“Mother, may I stay?” asked Sven. “I promise I’ll be quiet. But I never get to come to things like this, and I’d like to stay here.”

“Yes, dear, that will be fine,” Lady Overfifer replied, smiling indulgently. She then reverted to her serious mien as Henry left. “I am concerned about the state of the city guard. We do our best, but our resources are limited and the guard has been pressed to its limits lately, especially with your grace’s impending coronation.” Alistair and Dame Brionna discounted this concern somewhat-- the Overfifers always believed that the city guard needed expansion, strengthening, and further training. Lady Overfifer handed across a second piece of parchment. “We have also had some problems with grain spoliation. Rats infested four of the warehouses. At first, we feared that all of the grain had been spoiled, but the remaining warehouses remain safe.”

“Where are the warehouses with the spoliation?” asked Dame Brionna. “Any pattern?”

“All were located just south of the Merchants Ward. The warehouses in the Merchants Ward are sealed more tightly, and the rats could not get in. But it is worse than just the loss of grain. Someone has been killing my rat catchers. I can’t imagine that’s random chance, your grace, so it must be a plot against the grain supply. I have considered asking the Temple for support, but I worried after the battle in the Cathedral that it was pressed to the limit, even assuming the Archbishop took my concerns seriously.”

Alistair nodded. “We knew that the Skaven were attacking within the city-- it should be no surprise that they would go after the food supply, or the rat catchers for that matter. I would have hoped that the bounties would have done more to control that… We’ll have to consider what more can be done.”

Lady Overfifer continued. “Unfortunately, the last matter I have to discuss is the most serious, your grace. This is a study of the increased number of kidnappings and murders over the last four months. There are some dismaying patterns.”

“We know,” said Dame Brionna. “Most of the victims are young unmarried women. I’m worried that the deaths are part of an occult plot.”

Lady Overfifer nodded. “I noticed the same pattern, myself. If it is the work of a chaos cult, we will need to increase the support of clerics throughout the city.”

Kit added mentally, <<Everything about her seems on the up and up. No signs she’s concealing anything, and she’s honestly concerned about the threats. Hard to believe in the head of the city constabulary, but there you go.>>

Alistair scanned the parchment before responding. “Last night, we moved against several demons that had set up operations in the sewers. We had hoped that that would bring the killings to a close. It doesn’t appear to have, but if we are very lucky, the murders last night were the last before our raid.” Alistair coughed a little. “We regret not coordinating the raids with your forces, but we had not yet had the opportunity to verify that you could be fully trusted. We have no concerns on that front, now. Prepare a letter to the Archbishop asking for more clerical support for the watch and for the use of some of the church knights, if they can be spared. We’ll endorse the letter.

“Thank you, your grace,” Lady Overfifer responded. “The city appreciates your support.”

“We understand that Canberry City is the heart of the Archduchy in more ways than one. We should meet regularly to discuss issues in the city. Perhaps once a fortnight, or more frequently if you wish or have urgent matters…”

<<Make it public… Raising the notion of private meetings makes her nervous, thinking of your reputation and the fact that she’s a widow.>>

“Perhaps you could attend a regular lunch with my Council, and of course any advisors of yours that would be helpful?” asked Alistair.

“I would be happy to, your grace.”

“We should also discuss possible areas of land within the city for a construction project I intend to start. We will be building three new schools, to train magi, priests, and psions in an effort to strengthen the Archduchy’s resources, and each will need significant space for its campus. We would like your aid in choosing sites.”

“With pleasure, your grace. The schools can be used to replace buildings that are going to waste, and the faculty and students will help reinvigorate poorer areas in the City…”

“Our thoughts exactly, although we must also be careful to not place them in areas that would harm the ability of the schools to recruit faculty and students.”

“Of course, of course. Let me see… I will have to consult my maps and discuss the matter with some advisors…”

Kit’s eyes suddenly widened. “There’s a new mind active on the far side of the wall. And as soon as I sensed it, I lost my mindlink…”

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

By the time Kit finished her statement, Dame Brionna had already drawn her sword and moved towards the door to the next room. “Please stay here, your grace… this should only take a few minutes.” Kit followed quickly in Dame Brionna’s wake and the two of them swept into the next room. The room was empty except for a servant cleaning the wall. Dame Brionna only remembered the servant vaguely, but she was plain enough to have been assigned to the
Archduke’s chambers. Kit could even remember her name, Aurelia.

The servant looked up from her work scrubbing the floor, and leaned back from Dame Brionna’s brandished sword. “Is everything well, m’lady? Nothing has happened, has it?”

“Has anyone else been in this room recently, Aurelia?” asked Kit.

“No, m’lady, just me.”

Dame Brionna lifted a sun disc in her off-hand and concentrated. As the power of Glor’diadel flowed through her, she sensed an unusual presence of evil with Aurelia. Aurelia herself was not evil, but there was evil on her, and not radiating from any object, either. The paladin concentrated and became positive: something was riding Aurelia, not quite possessing her, but traveling with her.

“Aurelia, have you ever been to Brightspan? Or Caligshire?”

“I’ve never been, m’lady, but my great-aunt grew up in Brightspan. Said the city was lovely in the setting sun.” Puzzlement covered Aurelia’s face at the question.

Dame Brionna nodded to herself, seeing a pattern with Lady Zenia. “Are you with child?”

Aurelia blushed at the sudden change in topic. “We don’t know… it’s too early to be sure, but I hope so. Can you tell?”

Kit looked sharply at Dame Brionna, realizing what she must have detected. Dame Brionna continued, “Are you married?”

“Yes, m’lady. To Trevor, one of the Archducal Guards, m’lady.” A note of pride came into her voice at that.

Dame Brionna stuck her head into the hall. “Send for Trevor. I need to speak with him. And double the guards on the Archduke’s chambers.” Trevar was a good lad. A commoner member of the Guard, Dame Brionna thought of him as bright enough, but he had no prospects for further advancement without a drop of noble blood in his veins.

Kit spoke in a soothing voice, seeing the alarm on Aurelia’s face. “You needn’t worry. Neither you nor Trevor has done anything wrong.” She hoped she was telling the truth. “We just need to ask a few more questions of each of you. Tell me about your great-aunt, from Brightspan. Has she done anything unusual lately?”

“Not more than normal, m’lady. She’s always done silly things, though.”

“What sorts of silly things?”

“She goes to seances, m’lady. Always trying to talk to my great-uncle, though he’s been dead for years. And she always wants me to go with her.”

“And have you gone to these seances, Aurelia?” Dame Brionna made the question sound like an accusation, and Kit saw the calm that she had been encouraging slip away.

“Once or twice, m’lady. There’s nothing much to them, and she was bugging me so. I just wanted to make my great-aunt happy, m’lady…”

Kit intervened. “That’s fine, Aurelia. I think we should send for Lady Constance-- if you sensed something, it’s probably a matter for her to deal with.”

“And a priest who can dispel evil, to force whatever it is to stop riding her.” Dame Brionna quickly sent one of the guards to summon Lady Constance and a powerful cleric, as well as giving orders that a priest and a guard were to locate Aurelia’s great-aunt in the Harrows Hill neighborhood and take her to the Cathedral.

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

After a few minutes, Lady Constance entered the room. She gestured at Aurelia and then said, “Yes, I can see why you called me. The rider is clear. They have implanted a thought demon, riding along with her fetus.” She scrutinized the magical patterns. “Probably about three days ago.”

“A thought demon? What is that?”

“Thought demons are minor demons, but they are particularly effective against psionics. It is incapable of taking a physical form and is a servitor at the bottom of the demonic hierarchy.”

“Can you remove it?”

“Not without grave risk to the fetus. It would be better to have a priest exorcise it, which should be simple enough. But you must make sure that there are no pregnant women within 200 yards, or it will simply switch hosts.”

The sergeant on duty outside the Archducal chambers knocked and entered. “Guardsman Trevor has arrived, Captain.”

“Send him in. And have a sweep of guards make sure that there are no women who are or might be pregnant within 200 yards of this chamber. If there is any doubt, have them moved.”

Trevor came to attention and saluted and then noticed Lady Constance and the scared look on his wife’s face. “What’s the matter? Is Aurelia in danger?”

“No, Guardsman,” replied Dame Brionna. “She is under a magical effect, but we will have it dispelled.”

He relaxed. “How may I serve, Captain?”

“We would like to know more about Aurelia’s great-aunt. The one with the interests in seances.”

“Well, you see…” Trevor looked apologetically at Aurelia. “Frankly, ma’am, she’s gone crazy in her dotage. She means well, but she’s not all there. And she’s become obsessed with a medium.”

“Do you know the medium’s name?” asked Kit. “Or where she keeps her shop?”

“No, m’lady. And she doesn’t have a shop. But all the old women know how to find her, by word of mouth.”

“Was there a séance three days ago?”

Trevor blinked. “Yes, m’lady. A special one, with about twenty women. Aurelia’s great-aunt insisted that she go, and I walked her over.”

“Were there any other pregnant women there, besides Aurelia?”

“Aurelia definitely is?” Excitement and pride flashed across Trevor’s face, but Dame Brionna’s firm gaze quickly brought him back to focus. “I do not know for certain, but I think that Brenda is, and I saw her there. Brenda is a tavern maid at the Golden Antler, where they held the séance. She looks it again, and she almost always is. She has eight already, Captain, and it’s been a year and a half since her last…”

Dame Brionna’s eyes narrowed. “The séance was at a tavern? How often are the seances there?”

“More often than not, Captain. I think the medium may be related to the owner, although as I said, I don’t really know her.”

One of the senior palace priests entered the chambers. “You wished to see me, Dame Brionna?” As he saw Lady Constance, he frowned, and she glared back at him.

Dame Brionna gestured at Aurelia. “We hoped that you could help her.”

The priest made a minor prayer to Glor’diadel and then took a half-step back. “I see. Yes, I should be able to cast it out without great difficulty.”

Kit inclined her head towards Lady Constance. “We hoped that you could work with Lady Constance. If she can bind it after you cast it out, we’ll be able to gain some badly needed intelligence.”

The priest swallowed hard. “I can’t say I approve of working with people like that.”

“I don’t approve of working with pompous fools, either,” Lady Constance replied.

“Please, Father, Lady Constance… The Archduchy needs this information. If you do not work together, other demons will likely go undetected.”

“Very well. I will work with her if she’s willing to accept my aid.”

Lady Constance and the priest began quietly negotiating the terms of their cooperation. She wished to perform the ritual in her lab, where it would be easiest to bind the creature, and he responded that he would need to sanctify the area where the exorcism would take place, which she would permit as long as he did not disturb any of the long-running experiments and spells she had in place, and so forth. They led Aurelia away, still negotiating, while Trevor tagged along with a look of terror on his face.

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

Back in the conference room, Alistair turned to Lady Overfifer. “Perhaps you should take a guard or two and check on Henry and Abigail. Someone should make sure that they are safe, but I don’t think the guards would be happy if I left this room.”

Lady Overfifer nodded and quickly headed out. Once she was safely out of earshot, Alistair faced her eldest son. “Have you started seeing anyone, Wade? You can tell me.” Alistair made the last statement a Suggestion.

Wade startled at the sudden question, but then “realized” that Alistair would be a good person to talk to. He would understand the things that Wade knew his mother would not. “Cassandra… she’s wonderful. I mean, there are other girls that I have fun with-- servants and the like.” Alistair nodded understandingly. “But Cassandra is different. I’m learning what love means because of her.”

“How did you meet?”

“We danced together at a formal ball. I didn’t want to and hated it at the time.” Wade shook his head in disbelief as he remembered his foolishness. “But afterwards, as I thought back on it, I realized how special she is. Since then, we’ve exchanged letters. But the best is when she is here in the capital and we can talk.”

“What do you talk about? Does she ask you many questions?”

“We talk about all sorts of things. She asks me a lot of questions about Canberry City.” Wade leaned in conspiratorially. “I think that’s probably because she loves me and knows that I’ll be Lord Mayor some day.”

Alistair prodded a little further. Wade was obviously deeply smitten, although somewhat oddly. He talked about his physical exploits with other girls, but Alistair was not even sure that there was any physical intimacy between Wade and Cassandra, although lust was clearly part of Wade’s feelings towards her.

After a few minutes of talking, Alistair cast another spell to confirm that Wade had been enchanted. In addition to the aura of his Suggestion, Alistair could see a very subtle enchantment-- so subtle that he probably would have missed it altogether if Wade had not been discussing Cassandra while Alistair examined him. It was an extremely powerful suggestion effect, more powerful and yet more subtle than any that Alistair had ever seen before.

Dame Brionna and Kit returned. As they began to report, Alistair held up a hand to stop them. “Wade, there are matters of state that we must discuss in private. If you would be so good as to step into the next room for a few minutes?” Once Wade had left, Alistair explained, “I confirmed that his romance with Cassandra is the result of a magical compulsion. He’s been passing intelligence to her, I’m almost certain. And the compulsion is very powerful.”

“Do you know how bad that is?” Kit asked. “What information did he have access to?”

“I don’t know. The suggestion that I used to get him to talk about his relationship with Cassandra did not reach that far. But the Lady Mayor should be able to tell us.”

Dame Brionna stepped out into the next room and brought the Lady Mayor back in.

“Lady Overfifer, I regret to say that one of your son’s is under a magical effect. He is not complicit, and I’m certain that we will be able to have the curse removed, but Wade has been passing intelligence to the enemies of the Archduchy. I have confirmed this personally.”

The Lady Mayor paled. “I see, your grace. Now I understand fully why you did not inform me of your operations within the City.”

“How bad is it?” asked Kit. “Assume that he broke into chambers in your townhouse that you would normally keep locked and may have eavesdropped in meetings there. How much would he have been able to learn?”

“Virtually everything of importance to the City. Even without doing more than opening a desk lock, Wade has access to all the documents in the house, including detailed maps of the sewers and of the ward structures, lists of all the ward leaders, councilmembers, officials, budgets... I have always hoped that he would show an interest in learning to perform the tasks involved in running the city. And even within the house, there are copies of all of the official documents.” The Lady Mayor paused. “I do not leave my work much these days.”

“Even with the curse removed, it would be wise to remove Wade from the City for a time,” said Dame Brionna. “Besides, it may be good for him anyway. He is of an age where being in an environment where he is expected to take on duties as a squire should help.”

“Yes. I should have fostered him already, but it is hard for me to think of sending my family away. But I will try to foster him with the Earl of Broadfields. Our blood ties are weak, but the Earl has always remembered them. And I am most sorry to have failed your grace this badly.”

“Do not blame yourself, Lady Overfifer. As I said, it was powerful magic. There was nothing that either you or Wade could have done. We will remember the loyal and able service you have always given us and not hold the harms your family has suffered in our service against you. Wade will do well in fosterage with the Earl, and when he returns, all will be forgotten, and he will be welcome in our service.”

“Thank you, your grace. On the subject of my sons entering your service… As you know, my family does not have extensive familial relations. My youngest boy is very keen for the nation. If a proper posting could be found for him as a page—he is a third-son—it could be very helpful for his future.”

Kit sent her own, extremely positive assessment of Sven to Alistair mentally, and he nodded. “Of course, Lady Overfifer. We would be happy to grant him a position as one of the Archducal pages.”

Her eyes widened. “To be placed here is beyond what I had hoped for but would be exceptionally welcome.”

“All of you sons are good boys, m’lady,” said Kit. “But it is clear that Sven is special, gifted with talents that deserve to be developed as best as they can be.”

“I have always thought so but did not know that you would agree so quickly.”

“It is the least we can do for your family, and it will aid the Archduchy as well.”

 

[Cerebral Paladin]

Lady Constance and the priest returned, entering without knocking over the protests of one of the Archducal Guards until Dame Brionna gestured at him to return to his post. The priest and the diabolist continued bickering, although increasingly good-naturedly, until they stood directly before the Council. “Your grace, this is the thought demon.” Lady Constance held forth a small crystal jar, filled with a swirling grey mist. “Once it is opened, I will force it to answer your questions before it is dismissed.”

“Aurelia and her baby are well?” asked Dame. Brionna.

“They are,” responded the priest. “It was a weak creature, well within my powers to cast out.”

“How many questions will we be able to ask?” asked Alistair.

“Eight, your grace. And they should have simple answers. While I can compel it to answer any questions, it is unlikely to understand more difficult questions.”

The group discussed for some time before assembling a list of questions that satisfied them.

Alistair nodded to Lady Constance who drew a pentagram on the floor, and then shattered the jar on the stone floor and began chanting. “In the name of Tasha of the Teeth and Lilith, Queen of Hell, I command you. Answer these questions truthfully and fully as best as you can.”

“Who is your master?”

A clear thought sounded in the heads of all who were present, with a slightly unpleasant feel to it. <<The Archdemon known as the Devourer of Light.>>

“Who summoned you?”

<<The archmaga Drusilla.>>

“How many other thought demons were summoned?”

<<One.>>

“Are there other types of demons that you work with?”

<<Yes.>>

“What types?”

<<Two great battle tanar’ii, mightier than any I have see.>>

“Where are they?”

<<They ride two others until we recite the manifesting phrase that will manifest them on the Prime.>>

“Who are the people they ride?”

<<Two infants within this city.>>

“What is the timing on their manifestation?”

<<When I had all the information I was sent to find.>>

With each passing question, the thought demon swirled outwards ever further. When the eighth question had been asked, it pressed at the very edges of the magical barriers Lady Constance had created. She gestured at the demon. “Now learn what it is to oppose me, and suffer the wrath of Lilith, Queen of Hell, and get thee back to the Abyss.” She twisted her hand as the portal opened and the form of the demon unraveled so that only a lowly larva passed through to the Abyss. “You need not worry that it will report anything that it has not already, your grace. That larva retains nothing of what it once knew.”

“What do you know of the Devourer of Light, Lady Constance?” asked Dame Brionna.

“You must recall that demons are beyond my main area of expertise. I have heard its name, so it must be powerful, although I do not recall any details. It is likely a Baron or Count, from what little I remember. I would have to consult my texts to learn more.”

“Please do so, Lady Constance,” replied Alistair. “And thank you for your aid. Before you leave, there is one more matter we would like to ask your assistance with. There is a young man under a geas, and we hoped you could remove it.”

Lady Constance nodded, and they led Wade back in. Wade looked terrified as Lady Constance cast a spell to see the magic effect upon him, although oddly he seemed terrified by any magic being cast on him, not merely because of Lady Constance’s unsavory reputation. As she looked at him, her mouth fell open. “Great powers of Darkness and of Light...” Dame Brionna noted that she had never befor heard Lady Constance invoke powers of Light, even as a curse. Lady Constance continued staring at the magic effect. “I believe I can remove it, but it will take several hours; the whole enchantment stinks of rune singing. That would be Noldar work, although fortunately not a strong one.”

“You believe that you can remove it? Will the process be safe for Wade?”

“Oh, yes, your grace. For him, the effect will either be removed successfully, or it won’t. For me, we shall see… if I make a mistake…”

“Would assistance make you more likely to succeed? Perhaps Lord Silverleaf’s psion or Lady Meredith? We could ask either if you believe that it would help.”

“This is strictly magic, and I doubt that the elven psion would be of much aid. But working with Lady Meredith would make me much more likely to remove it safely, and she will surely agree to help.”

The two archmages set to work on the enchantments, each using a radically different style of magic. Much as the process fascinated Alistair, Dame Brionna insisted that everyone except the two archmages remained at a safe distance, watching from the far end of a long chamber. Lady Constance narrated her efforts as she worked, as much to keep her focus as for any other reason. “Yes… a very clever layered compulsion. I do not think I’ve ever seen one so carefully done. The top layer is simply a connection of devotion; they just reinforced his natural lust as a young man meeting an attractive girl into complete obedience. The second layer forces him to read his mother’s records late at night.” As she unraveled this layer, it triggered a flood of memories Wade hadn’t been able to recall, and he twitched in pain, confusion, and shame. “And this one here… once every fortnight he reports to a rotund woman, with long braided hair. The last one is screaming for help even as this is going on.”

“Can you tell how much he has reported, or anything they seemed focused on?”

“He has been reporting for nearly a year. At times, he has reported all the guard depositions in the City, most recently focusing on the guards in the central City. He has also reported on grain shipments over the last year; the trading markets; and evening cathedral services. In his most recent report, he specifically listed the names of servants who work within the palace.”

After some hours of effort, Lady Constance and Lady Meredith finished their work. As they unravelled the very last bits of the enchantment, the protective ward at least partially triggered. Black lances of obsidian shot forth from Wade, each lance dripping with a foul black ichor. A total of six lances erupted, and Dame Brionna was very glad that she had kept Alistair, Kit, and herself at a safe distance. Three lances struck at each Archmage. Lady Meredith’s protective wards deflected hers, but two lances slammed into Lady Constance, carrying her to the ground. She cried out in agony as the poison burned at her, although one of the lances had passed clean through her before its poison could reach her. Dame Brionna darted forward and brought the power of Glor’diadel to heal Lady Constance. With her full healing ability, she was barely able to keep Lady Constance alive as she swabbed out the wound and aided her against the poison’s slower effects. After she stabilized, a group of devils came to bring her back to her chambers on a stretcher.